


A Distraction

by chibinocho



Category: England Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Assault, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinocho/pseuds/chibinocho
Summary: Daniel Da Silva doesn't need Archie on this assignment because he's too much of a distraction. But when Daniel's past catches up with him, he needs his distraction more than ever.
Relationships: Archie Curtis/Daniel da Silva
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	A Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't sign up for the Yuletide fics because of unstable work commitments and deadlines but instead took on the task of doing several fics before Christmas. I absolutely love this pairing.

Daniel Da Silva stumbled out of the Hackney, nearly stumbling into the gutter. He reached back to thrust a handful of coins at the driver before climbing the stairs to the flats, fighting not to fall on his arse. He had given the cabby far, far too much for such a short journey but he was beyond caring about such things now. He pulled the bellpull and hoped Archie was at home. He didn’t want to have to explain this to anyone

It was supposed to have been a simple assignment. Just Daniel doing a bit of straightforward reconnaissance at a social gathering of the upper class including two very high up members of the House of Lords who were indulging in a rather nasty bit of negotiation and intelligence sharing with the Germans over Naval spending. Da Silva’s job was to appear at the gathering in his finest and swan about being all flamboyant, artistic and effeminate, eavesdropping on various conversations the men had. He was to gather as much information as possible on their interests, predilections and forthcoming events, all the while being a charming bohemian ornament of little consequence. He was then to report back to Vaizey with a full pen portrait of the men and let the Bureau decide where to go next.

Curtis had been concerned about not attending with Daniel. After all - he had said - weren’t they partners now? Daniel had argued that there was very little risk involved; it was only some light information-gathering at a society party, something that had been Daniel’s bread and butter long before Archie had barged into his life. Besides, Curtis had not specifically been invited and nor did he have any connection to the guests there. It was an artistic gathering at a theatre in the West End and Archibald Curtis was a military sporting type, he would easily stand out as surely as if he was holding a giant placard saying ‘I don’t belong here’. His sheer presence would potentially undermine Daniel being there at all.

“In other words, you think I’ll be a distraction.” said Curtis, idly tugging at a lock of Daniel’s hair. They had been laid - delightfully naked and sweat-tinged from the morning’s exertions - in Archie’s large comfortable bed together as Daniel read through the files on his marks.

“I don’t think … I know.” answered Daniel sharply. “You are the very definition of the word distraction. A big, oversized distraction. They should use your image to illustrate the entry in the dictionary. Archie Curtis, noun, something that prevents someone from giving their attention to something else.” he punctuated his sentence with a yelp as Archie tugged a little harder and when that was ineffective, seized him around the waist and pulled him down into the covers, scattering paper. They tussled together playfully before Daniel rolled them over, bestowing a kiss in recognition of Archie’s successful distraction tactics.

“I still don’t like it.” Archie had pouted, as Daniel straddled his thighs, letting Archie's impressive morning glory rub against his own. 

“It’ll be fine.” Reassured Daniel shifting his hips into the slow rhythm that had Archie almost whining with want. "Now, Captain Curtis, show me how much you are going to miss me."

And of course Daniel saying 'it'll be fine' had been the kiss of death to it actually proving ‘fine’. 

The party had been pleasant enough. Ostensibly it was a gathering to celebrate some over-enobled lordling endowing a theatre with enough money to ensure his portrait would remain hanging in the lobby for at least a century. However it was also a chance for some of the more - artistically-inclined - members of the House of Lords to meet, pass information and size each other up away from other peers. 

And of course one of those artistically inclined peers would have to have recognised Daniel. He had been happily conversing with Lady Fortherley - a familiar and most welcome face - on the finer points of Romanticism when a brown-haired man had suddenly stepped forward into the conversation.

“Ah, so it’s Mr Da Silva is it?” Came the nasally voice.

And Daniel’s heart had dropped as he stared into the handsome-yet-hostile features of Sir Randall Thanet.

Sir Randall had been an early target of Daniel’s when he had first taken on work for Vaizey. Randall had been indulging in some small time trade secrets through his shipping companies and had started getting greedy with the people he was trading with. He had proved difficult to track down and break apart so after many failed attempts at getting the information, Daniel had resorted to - quite frankly - seducing the man. As it turned out, that had been just the ticket as rumour that Sir Randall was fucking his merry way through most of the artistic young gentlemen of the West End had been well founded. They had met at a society do, Daniel had flirted, they had fucked, Daniel had extracted and passed on the information and Sir Randall had been considerably fined, briefly imprisoned and lost a good portion of his business interests. Daniel could only hope that Randall hadn’t equated his downfall to the single night he spent in a sordid back room of an assignation house.

Still it had been better to be safe than sorry.

Daniel had attempted to make his excuses and leave the gathering, determined to abort the evening and take the inevitable annoyance of Vaizey at his failure. He cut through the busy lounge of the theatre, making light apologies and murmuring that his muse was upon him and he was inspired to write at that very moment. People had laughed at his sheer enthusiasm and artistic ways so naturally made way for him. He had just managed to get to the foyer and was on the verge of getting his hands on the doors when he was seized by the arm and pulled hard into the cloakrooms, falling to the floor amidst the coats.

“You fucking dago ponce.” came the angry hiss. “I knew it was you.” Of course it was Sir Randall. 

And that was what had led to him stumbling into the street and hailing a motor cab with a rapidly swelling and blackening eye, a split lip and a fire-like pain in his ribs. He managed to fob the driver off with some lame excuse of being on the wrong side of a bar fight and gave the address of his rooms in Bloomsbury as he supposed he should go home really. Archie wouldn't be expecting him for another couple of days and that was ample time for the swelling of his eye to settle, the split in his lip to heal and the bastarding pain in his ribs to subside. He really didn't want to face Archie in this state.

Fuck, it had been humiliating. Not content with beating him bloody, Randall had hissed abuse at him. Whore. Slut. Pansy. Ponce. Sodomite. The most ironic thing had been that Randall had genuinely had no idea that it had been Daniel who had passed on the information that had ruined him. That would have almost been acceptable; a justifiable recompense sought by an angry man who had lost wealth and status thanks to an ill-judged liaison. No. Randall’s attack was purely based on the fact that they had fucked and he couldn’t bear the idea of anyone in that theatre realising that Sir Randall Thanet, Baronet, fucked men.

Daniel Da Silva had never apologised or lied about his preference for men but now, with his eye throbbing and ribs aching, he felt more ashamed than he ever had in his life. He had taken verbal abuse for his tastes many times and could usually respond to it with his acerbic wit and bitter comebacks. He had even been beaten before in the line of duty. But this would be the first time that both had come together into one dangerously honed arrow that had struck through his bravado and left him feeling every slur Randall had thrown at him as keenly as his injuries.

…  _ A queer whore who’d do anything for a fuck _ …

Daniel thrust his hands through his hair in frustration, feeling hot tears prickle at his eyes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He would not get upset about this. He would not let this man - this random fuck and not even a good one at that - get to him. He was past all this now. He had a life. He had Archie too. Whether he wanted to or not, he had someone special in Archie who - he was pretty sure - accepted him, whatever he was and no matter how much Daniel had tried to fend him off, came back every time to stay by his side. When had he become Daniel's rock? Fuck he needed him now. Daniel Da Silva took a curse-filled breath, clenched his fingers into his palms and banged on the separating glass.

“Change of plan.” he called out to the cabby. “Turn left at the next junction.”

  
  


Having been left at a loose end by his lover for the day and evening, Archie Curtis had been a man of leisure for much of the day. He had spent the morning at the gymnasium working at the punching bags before attending his club for most of the late afternoon and early evening. When not on assignments for his Uncle and working with Daniel, Curtis liked to attend the Army and Navy club to share drinks and gossip with some of the more interesting Boer veterans. He was not generally a club man but found a certain sense of familiarity in the former officers - several of whom were as injured as he was - who tended to linger in the Old Library of 'The Rag' as it was colloquially known. He had enjoyed a few rounds of cards, a spirited debate over the suffrage movement and an easy dinner before taking a brisk walk back to his flat.

He knew Daniel wouldn't be joining him tonight. The assignment he had been given was likely to run late and Daniel pointed out that appearing at his flat - even through the service doors - would not go unremarked. He also pointed out that even if he did finish at a reasonable time, he might actually be able to do some of his more artistic endeavours without his lover being an outrageously tempting distraction. And Christ knew how much Archie liked being a distraction to one Daniel Da Silva. 

Ascending the steps and unlocking the large black door, Archie was greeted in the foyer by one of the manservants - who he recognised - who seemed to have been waiting for him there. This was odd, it was usually Harry - the doorman - who was waiting to greet him. Archie frowned as he handed over his overcoat to the man’s outstretched arm.

"Good evening, Johnson. What's the matter?"

Johnson looked flustered and brushed at the coat for the want of something to do.

"Sir, Mr Curtis. You - er - have a visitor. Mr Da Silva is here."

Archie couldn't school his features away from the sudden burst of delight. 

"Ah very good, thank you. Is he in foyer? Do I need to show him up?" It was ridiculous of course as Daniel already had a key and usually let himself through the service doors and could often be found curled up in Archie’s rooms on one of the wingback armchairs with a book. Johnson was also more than used to seeing Daniel here by now and knew how to act but maybe it was a more formal visit on Daniel's part, requiring the the guise of working partners who needed to meet urgently, rather than lovers who just needed each other urgently. But as Archie looked at Johnson’s pained expression, his instincts for danger rose.

“What is it Johnson?” 

"No sir, he is not down here, I have actually let him into your rooms." He took a breath, Archie frowned. "It seemed best as the gentleman - that is Mr Da Silva - appears to be injured." Before Archie could demand information, he continued. "We tried to offer one of the side rooms and offered to call Doctor Thurston but he refused and said he would wait for you in your rooms. I decided it would be best to let him in, sir." The man looked pained himself and Archie realised that Johnson could so easily be sacked for making these kinds of decisions. Luckily, discretion was a focal part of any mansion flat in London and Johnson was a master, being former Army and understanding the vital need for some things to be kept secret. Archie was more than grateful for this.

"It was a very good decision Johnson, I thank you." He reached over and slipped a few crowns into the man's suit pocket by way of thanks. "Please ask Hillyard to send up tea and supper for two and I'll ring down if Mr Da Silva needs Dr Thurston. Thank you Johnson."

At Johnson’s polite nod, Archie practically hurdled the stairs and burst through the door of his flat as if he was running from a fire, glaring about for danger. Of course there was no danger, only his drawing room as it always was but it was shrouded in semi-darkness. The gas-lamps were off and the only light in the room was a single table lamp and the hellish red glow of the smouldering fireplace. 

Daniel sat in one of the armchairs staring into the flames cast into shadows. He seemed more hunched than usual, as if trying to make himself smaller in the chair, arms braced over his bent knees. He was fiddling with the unfurled bow tie of his evening dress with his fingers twisting around the silk. His best suit jacket and waistcoat had both been carelessly tossed over the back of the chair and that was shocking in itself as Daniel took great pains over the care of his clothing and often berated Archie for casually abandoning his own jackets and shirt without care. Furthermore, Daniel’s brilliantined hair was now tousled and falling in strands over his face.

And his face ...

“Daniel.” Archie crossed the room in two quick strides and dropped to his knees in front of his lover. He could then see the split lip and shades of purple and blue in his swollen eye in all its glory. “Christ, what’s happened to you? Who did this? You said it was only information gathering.”

Daniel looked hostile.

“Well yes, that’s what it was supposed to be, wasn’t it?” his tone was nasty, waspish and defensive. “Only it didn’t quite work out that way, as you can quite plainly see.” He turned his head away from Archie’s outstretched hand like a wounded animal and a knife-edge hurt lodged in Archie’s gut at the rejection.

“But it was just a party, wasn’t it?” Archie asked plaintively. He reached again for Daniel and managed to catch hold of his hand before it could be pulled away. Daniel glared at it but relented. Archie dropped a kiss on the hand and found it cool to touch. He choked down his rising anger and steadied his voice. “Please, Daniel. What happened?”

Daniel’s sigh was melodramatic and put-upon.

“Well you know me … just a damn queer whore. One of my previous liaisons unfortunately recognised me and took exception to having an untimely reminder of his previous record for fucking his way through the fairies of Holborn.” He clenched his unclaimed hand with a sharp intake of breath.

“Who?” Archie’s voice was calm but he could already hear the bubbling berserker rage rippling underneath his tone. 

“Does it even matter?”

“Yes.”

Daniel eyed him suspiciously. The flames of the fireplace danced in the depthless black of his eyes.

“I’m not some maiden who has been ravished, Archie." He said coldly. “As said, I am a foolish queer whore who fucked the wrong person and the wrong person decided to get back at me the only way he knew how. That’s it. End of story.”

Archie studied his lover, reading the hunched body, the lack of eye contact and slight shake to the hands. The last time he had seen Daniel this vulnerable was when he had found him bound and soaked in the cave. He released Daniel’s hand and reached up to his face, tenderly and gently brushing his thumb against the swelling there. Daniel glared back in defiance but seemed to soften at the caress.

“You aren’t a whore.” Archie said firmly. Daniel’s laugh was bitter and self-recriminating. “You aren’t… and even if you were, no one has the right to hit you and make you feel like this.”

Daniel’s laugh was genuine this time. 

“I wish I had your outlook, Captain Curtis. It must be rather pleasant to see things in such a just way. Unfortunately a lot of people do not see that, especially those who would rather keep their predilections firmly under the carpet.” Daniel looked away, back to the flames of the fire and hunched up in his chair again. It was in these unguarded moments where Archie truly understood how much of Daniel’s image was sheer bravado and a mirage. 

“Then they need educating. Who should I be educating?” he flexed his fingers as heard Daniel's derisive bark. “I mean it, Daniel. You are important to me and I will not see you hurt.”

Daniel looked at his lover. Archie’s eyes were large and almost beseeching but he could see the rage there, burning in the background. He wanted vengeance for Daniel’s mistreatment and from the flexing of his fists, he was prepared to do it himself. Surprisingly, instead of the irritation Daniel expected to feel, he felt a coil of happiness wrap around his gut. Archie wanted to defend him, fight for him and protect him. It was a rather touching thought really and was probably the first time anyone had truly wanted to do that for him. For most of his adult life, Daniel Da Silva had stood on his own two feet, not giving a damn about anyone or anybody and used his vicious tongue to defend himself and build a carefully fortified wall of sarcasm, cynicism and flamboyance between his true self and the world.

But Archie had barged straight though those walls, tearing down his defences and wrapped himself firmly around Daniel’s heart. The brutish swine.

“You don’t have to fight for me...” Daniel sighed. “I don’t need you fighting battles on my behalf.”

Although that was a rather charming thought. Archie Curtis astride a mighty stallion, dressed in armour and mail, brandishing a broadsword, ready to fight for Daniel Da Silva’s honour and good name like a knight of old. Or else a large Viking warrior complete with furs and helmets, brandishing an axe and throwing Daniel over his shoulder to carry him off to safety. Or to be ravished properly. Both rather poetic and compelling images certainly. Or ...

“... Not unless you wish to do it Roman style and wrestle for my honour in only a loincloth. If you wish to do that, my dear, be my guest. I will sell tickets, make a fortune and disappear to a chateau in the south of France to live out my days in idle luxury.”

Archie grinned in relief and swiped a hand through his thick, blond hair in laughing frustration. He was so beautiful when he was frustrated.

“You are diverting away from my question, Daniel.”

“Yes and aren’t I doing a marvellous job?” he drew in a deep, audible breath and with the exhale let go of all the evening’s upset and frustration. He stretched out, bones aching all over from being huddled up in the chair for so long and took Archie’s silently proffered hand to raise himself up. His ribs ached horribly and his face throbbed but he went into Archie’s embrace nevertheless, wincing at the twinge in his ribs as Archie's strong arms encircled him and held him close. 

It felt so fucking safe in Archie's arms, protected from the world and all the absolute bastards in it. Daniel felt his shoulders shudder with a sudden repressed sob and cursed himself for being so weak. It really was pathetic but when he felt Archie tug off his leather glove with his teeth and his mutilated hand caressed Daniel's hair, the single finger and thumb brushing his sensitive scalp, Daniel broke just a little in the shielding circle of his lover's tender embrace. He let tears silently fall, with his face pressed firmly into Archie's strong waistcoated shoulder that smelled so delectably of leather, hair pomade and Archie's cologne. Christ, he loved that scent. He loved it when they slept together and he could still smell Archie on the sheets next morning, along with the lingering scent of their passions. He breathed it in again and let it ground him, distract him, bring him home.

"My Daniel."

And then Archie had him firmly against the wall and they were kissing, mouths open and tasting, probing, wanting. It was gentle at first but Daniel hauled Archie closer against him, clutching his waistcoat with one hand and grabbing Archie’s taut, muscular arse with the other. Their bodies pressed firmly together and Daniel writhed against Archie's touch. Archie gave a deep rumbling growl of arousal in response and ground his hips to Daniel's. 

"You distracting bastard." He said throatily against his lips. "I will find out who did that to you."

"Shut up and fuck me." Answered Daniel, hearing the urgency and note of pleading in his voice. He pushed harder against Archie's body and felt his lover's substantial hardness push back at his belly. Daniel groaned; he needed to forget this whole bloody debacle of a night and he couldn't think of a better way than with a delectable Archie Curtis between his thighs. He ran a stockinged foot down the back of Archie’s calf. "I need this. I need you. So fuck me. Hard. Now."

Archie simply nodded and without a breath, immediately dropped to his knees. His hands went up and worked at Daniel's waistband with little flair or time-wasting, stripping his belt from him. At first Daniel thought Archie was going to strip him fully but he gave a groan of surprise when Archie merely wrenched aside his drawers, drew out his hard prick with his large callused hands, bent his head and practically swallowed him whole. 

"Oh fuck. Oh Christ." Daniel could hear his voice going higher as Archie's searingly-hot tongue swiped up the underside of his cock and pressed firmly against the slit, teasing him until Daniel’s legs buckled. Sweet Jesus, he had gotten so good at sucking cock. This experience was a world away from the tentative licking and mouthing he had done in the folly at Peakholme, which had still bought Daniel to a toe-curling release regardless. Now Archie was working his mouth and hollowing his cheeks like he had been doing it for years, not months and Daniel’s whole body was clenched in a maelstrom of pleasure that threatened to drive him to climax. He was going to come, spurting like a schoolboy before they had even gotten started. He clutched at Archie’s shoulders to try and get him to stop but the man held on and continued his ministrations, focusing all his attention on Daniel’s cock and even rolling his balls with his hand. Daniel panted and gasped. “Wait, Archie, please no. I'm … I'm going to come. Oh fuck.”

Then Archie’s clever, clever fingers stroked down the line of his balls, further back and Daniel hit his peak like a bullet from a gun. He came hard, swearing as his legs buckled so only the wall and Archie’s hand on his hip was keeping him upright. He felt Archie swallow around his over-sensitised cock and that sent a jolt through him.  _ He’s never done that before _ thought Daniel hazily as Archie pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Daniel sagged back against the wall panting hard staring malevolently back at Archie who was sitting back on his heels with a self-satisfied look on his face and a bulge in his trousers that Daniel reckoned would burst the stitching if Archie got any harder.

“You absolute brute of a Viking.” he burst out suddenly, furious that Archie wouldn’t just fuck him then leave him to simmer in his own self-hate. “What was that all about?”

Archie shrugged, his lips beautifully puffed and pink. .

“Taking your mind off it. Being a distraction. Now I’m going to take you to bed and show exactly why you shouldn’t be doing assignments without me.”

Daniel made to voice a strong and vociferous objection to such treatment but was too wrung out to do it properly. He therefore wasn’t surprised when Archie ignored him, hauled him up into his arms and bore him across the room bridal style despite his protests and half-hearted attempts at kicking. They reached the bed and Daniel gritted his teeth at the expected impact on his ribs but Archie lowered him down onto his deliciously soft and forgiving bed as if he was an armful of feathers.

“Absolute bastard.” Muttered Daniel as Archie shed his own trousers and underwear before boring him down onto the bed with his all weight and kissing him firmly. Daniel could still taste himself on Archie's tongue and he shivered at the memory. He then twisted and yelped inelegantly as Archie’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt and walked down his bare chest to give a cursory flick and tug against the silver ring that arced through Daniel’s nipple. To his shock, his spent cock was already showing a faint renewed interest at this. Traitor. 

“Your absolute bastard.” responded Archie, walking his fingers down further, hooking them into the waistbands of Daniel’s drawers and opened trousers, sliding them off fully with a firm pull, leaving Daniel exposed to his gaze. He crawled back over his lover like a stalking lion. “And this absolute bastard wants to show you the only person who should be touching you.” he leaned down and kissed him, swiping his tongue across the split.

"You." Daniel's voice was a little more than a hiss now, his hips canting in want and need. "For Christ's sake Curtis will you please just fuck me?"

Archie looked at him fondly and reached for the familiar bottle on the bedside table. He then proceeded to take his time, pouring the oil and coating both his hands, warming it up, clearly playing for time. Fucker. Daniel splayed his legs and tilted his hips in blatant invitation but Archie's hands went to his chest and started stroking along his planes of muscle, smoothing the oil over his skin in firm strokes, caressing tenderly over his throbbing ribs. Despite Daniel's frustrations and overwhelming need to be fucked into the mattress he couldn't help but moan at the tender touches.

"Not that I am complaining but were you actually going to fuck me at any point tonight?"

Archie's hands were now sliding over his belly and hips, the edge of his hands brushing against the dark thatch of curled hair at Daniel's crotch. His prick was obviously fully recovered and very interested now, bobbing insistently at Archie's own belly. 

"Patience Da Silva, I am tending to you. Not yet."

Daniel breathed in to spit out a witty retort but his words were snatched away as Archie flicked the nipple ring again. He continued moving his palms all over Daniel's torso in loving strokes, sliding lower and lower and then moving back up again. It was a strange and powerful mix of torture and pleasure. Despite his best efforts to object, Daniel felt himself relaxing, unravelling and falling into the sensation, relaxing into the touch. As if sensing his sudden surrender, Archie suddenly slipped two slick fingers into his pliant body, causing an abrupt sensation of pleasure and stretch. Daniel threw his head back on the pillow and panted..

"Archie!"

“Yes.”

Archie's fingers moved steadily in and out of his body whilst his lips traced kisses down Daniel’s injured side, making Daniel writhe in pleasure. The movement was infuriatingly slow and Daniel twisted on Archie's fingers trying to encourage him further and was rewarded by a third finger but it was still not enough.

“Come on, I need to fuck, Curtis. I need it hard.” Fuck was he pleading? Was that even his voice? Daniel didn’t know.

“I know. I’m not going to though. Not just yet. You need this more.”

Archie’s lips feathered down his hip as he twisted his fingers again, hitting that one spot inside that had Daniel seeing stars, even as Archie’s lips tasted him everywhere but on his cock, which was throbbing for the lack of attention. At that moment he wished he had never taught Archie these tricks in bed that made them both come apart so very sweetly; the man was such a blastedly quick learner. This exquisite worship of Daniel’s body was quite possibly more tortuous than what had been inflicted on him earlier. The sheer overwhelming love Archie was lavishing on his body was so gentle and loving that it was painful in a whole new way. Daniel wanted to cry again.

Then the fingers withdrew and Daniel moaned at the loss but groaned in relief as Archie’s thick, oiled cock began to breach his entrance. Always a lot to take at first, Daniel felt himself tense but Archie waited, easing Daniel’s legs over his arms before pressing inch by agonising inch until he was fully seated in the tight clench of Daniel’s body.

“You feel wonderful.” He gasped out, Daniel tried to respond but he was beyond that now, could only cry out as Archie - finally, thank god finally - began to move. “Beautiful, clever, desirable and completely mine.” 

He pulled Daniel up then and leaned backward, unfolding his legs so Daniel was now straddled across Archie’s lap, impaled firmly on his cock and their sweaty, oily bodies were pressed tightly together. Archie hips snapped upwards and Daniel whimpered at the depth of the penetration, not even caring about the protest from his ribs. He used the closeness to seize Archie’s hair and drag him close into a searingly-hot kiss, tongues sparring furiously. Archie's hands were at his waist, guiding him deeper, keeping them close as they moved together on the bed. Daniel fell into the easy rhythm of riding his lover, gripping his shoulders like a drowning man.

Then Archie panted near his ear and gripped his arse with an almost bruising grasp.

"I can't hold it." He gasped out, slamming deep into him. His cock pulsed with release. "Daniel…"

Archie's shuddering release slid their slippery bodies tighter together, pressing hard against Daniel's own neglected prick and as Archie jerked through the last of his orgasm, Daniel was hurled over into his own sobbing crisis, shooting warm and wet between their bellies.

Holy hell but it was glorious.

They panted together, neither wanting to break the embrace until Daniel made a small noise of discomfort and Archie withdrew, lying his lover back amongst the covers again before leaning over to the bedside table for the hand towel by the wash basin. He performed a simple clean up of them both before flopping down next to Daniel who was trying to gain some sense of equilibrium, his chest heaving.

"So will you tell me?" Asked Archie again, plaintively this time. His big hand was resting over Daniel's injured ribs, a warm comforting weight.

Daniel made a noise of outraged frustration and thrust his hands in his hair. He rolled his eyes, or at least rolled one and twitched the other haphazardly. It still throbbed uncomfortably.

"What if I don't tell you but I let you come on all of my missions." He said finally, offering an olive branch. The experience this evening had taught him one thing, he needed Archie more than he realised. Not just for physical protection - although having a quite literal Viking at your back could prove beyond helpful - but for support. To make Daniel feel like he wasn't all those insults that people hurled at him, that somewhere in the social crowds was a man who respected him, wanted him and - most probably - loved him.

He hadn't been lying to Archie about the rumours and the whispers. He knew about them because he was very often the subject of them and they absolutely fucking hurt. He hadn't wanted such an innocent man - and such a fucking good man at that - to be the subject of scandal. Daniel Da Silva knew first hand the damage and hurt whispers and rumours could cause and he wanted to keep Archie away from all that. But now he was beginning to feel like he could do with a protector of his own, someone who would stand beside him and be a … well … a distraction.

Archie looked somewhat mollified and Daniel cupped his face.

"Besides, if you do come on this next assignment and the man in question is there then I am sure you will be able to work it out for and find a way of distracting the gentleman yourself. I wouldn't deprive you of a target, Captain Curtis." 

"Daniel…" Archie's face was lit up like Harrods as he realised Daniel was actually officially inviting him as a partner, rather than begrudgingly putting up with him.

Daniel sighed and shoved at him.

"Oh for fucks sake you big lump, stop looking at me like I just proposed to you and go and get me an ice pack for my soddin' eye and a brandy for my lip." 

Grinning like an idiot, Archie got up from the bed and went towards the small icebox in the drawing room. He was still gloriously naked, glowing with sweat and the aftermath of orgasm. Daniel watched him appreciatively. His beautiful and absolutely necessary distraction. 


End file.
